


Heritage

by avantegarda



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Gen, a better title for this would be "tuor gets interrupted a lot", idril has no patience for self-deprecation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-04-12
Packaged: 2018-10-18 01:02:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10606047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avantegarda/pseuds/avantegarda
Summary: While on the road, Tuor tries to get directions, but gets something entirely unexpected instead.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I haven't written anything since what seems like years ago, but this idea came to me when I couldn't sleep the other night and now here we are.

The knocking at the door woke the old woman up from where she had been dozing by the fire. With a sigh, she closed her eyes again and willed the sound to go away. No good had come from anyone knocking on that door for years.

 

When the knock came again, louder that time, Em groaned and got to her feet slowly. With any luck, it would only be one of those traveling peddlers who would leave when they realized she was penniless. 

 

“All right, all right, I’m coming…” she grunted out, throwing the door open. She trailed off when she saw who was at the door. This was certainly no traveling peddler. The figure at her door was a tall, strapping lad with bright golden hair and a distinctive air of nobility about him.

 

The more surprising thing was, she  _ recognized  _ him. Not a week earlier,  she’d gotten another  knock on the door, this one from some slimy-looking Easterling soldier asking after a dangerous fugitive. “Big, strong young man, yellow hair, calls himself Tuor. Related to the former lords, you know. Acts all noble and lordly, but don’t be fooled, grandma, he’s a troublemaker. Killed some of the best men from our settlement and won’t stop there, not unless he’s stopped before he can do any more damage. Ten gold pieces, grandma, to anyone who can help us catch him.”

 

And now, here he was. At her door. And she’d be damned if she let him get any further.

 

“Afternoon, ma’am. You’d be called…?”

 

“Em, not that it’s any of your business,” Em replied curtly.’

 

“Glad to know you. I’m…”

 

“I know who you are,” Em hissed.

 

“Do you?” said the young man, looking surprised. “Oh, good, that’ll save time. I was wondering if you could help me…”

 

“No,” Em snapped. “I’m not helping you with anything. You’re trouble, that’s what you are. If I had any sense I’d turn you over to them what’s looking for you, and earn myself ten gold pieces.”

 

Irritatingly, Tuor looked more amused than anything. “You’re more than welcome to try, ma’am, though with all due respect I think I could take you in a fair fight. Not to mention that I don’t think there’s much in this neck of the woods you could spend even one gold piece on. Wouldn’t say that’s worth doing business with the Easterlings.”

 

Em scowled. “Then get you gone, young man. There’s nothing here for you.” She started to shut the door, but he held it open.

 

“Please, ma’am. I don’t want to bother you, but really, I just need your help…”

 

Rage boiled up inside Em, and it was all she could do not to hurl something at the boy. “ _ Help _ ?” she cried. “Why should I help you? It’s  _ you  _ and  _ your  _ kind who should be helping us!” 

 

Tuor’s expression turned to one of sorrow and regret, and Em took a step back from the door, all at once feeling slightly ashamed.  “Look, boy, I didn’t mean…”

 

“No, I know what you meant,” Tuor replied softly. “I’ve heard this a few times before, and I understand. My family kept these lands safe, before the war, and then most of us died and left you to fend for yourselves. And I know how betrayed you must feel. I spent three years as a slave hearing the same thing. Believe me, I wish as much as anyone else that I could have lived up to my family name. But I couldn’t get anyone out of that hellhole except myself, and I have to live with that now.” He sighed, and stepped out of the doorway. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. I’ll be on my way now.”

 

“Wait,” said Em. “I think perhaps I can help you.”

 

“Really?” Tuor’s face brightened. “You know where the Gate of the Noldor is?”

 

“The what? Never heard of it. But I’ve got something for you. Here.” Em untied the cord around her neck and handed the boy the medallion she always wore-- a small bronze disc, engraved with the image of an axe and bow. “Your grandfather gave this to my husband for his service in battle. I can remember Torvald easily enough, but you...you’ve got no family to remember. This should be yours.”

 

Tuor looked at the medallion, seemingly lost for words. At last, he said, “I...I don’t deserve this. You can’t give this to me.”

 

Em looked at him sternly. “I am a free woman of the house of Hador, young man, and I can give what I like to whom I damn well please. Now be off with you.” She smiled. “Do us proud.”

  
  


_ Gondolin _

_ Ten years later _

 

“Now, this is interesting,” Idril remarked, fiddling with the pendant on her new husband’s bare chest. “How is it that I’ve never seen you wear this before?”

 

“Well, I usually wear it under my clothes, darling, and after all, we’ve only been married since yesterday. You wouldn’t have had much opportunity to see it.” Tuor smiled wistfully. “It was my grandfather’s, you know. Well, sort of.”

 

Idril gave him a surprised look. “Is that so? How did you come by it?”

“There was this old woman, you see...her husband got it from my grandfather as a sort of badge of honor. She gave it to me when I was trying to find my way here.” He sighed. “I always felt like I didn’t deserve it, you know, like I’d let down my family’s legacy. Still do, I suppose.”

 

“Nonsense,” Idril said firmly. “You escaped from slavery, showed extraordinary courage in the face of extreme difficulty, and did your level best to save this city from our own stubbornness. I bet wherever your ancestors are right now, they’re looking down on you with nothing but pride.”

 

Tuor grinned. “You think so?”

 

“I know so. And don’t forget, darling, I’m  _ always  _ right. Now hush.” With that, Idril bent over to kiss him firmly on the lips, threading her fingers through his thick hair. With a sigh, Tuor returned the kiss and pulled her closer.

  
He may not deserve all this, he knew that. But at least he  _ had  _ it, and for now, that was more than enough.


End file.
